


Henry is the Meme Machine

by NyannyCat_13, Smol_Ninja_Creator



Series: Memes Come True [1]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: BATIM, Bendy and the Meme Maachine, Henry is the Meme Machine, Memes, Memester Henry Stein, POV Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine), bendy and the ink machine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyannyCat_13/pseuds/NyannyCat_13, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smol_Ninja_Creator/pseuds/Smol_Ninja_Creator
Summary: It was at that moment Joey realized… he fucked up.





	Henry is the Meme Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Smol: This entire story is basically how Joey (who is Bendy in this fic) invited Henry to come back to the old studio to show him what he did. That ends up being the biggest mistake of his life. Worse than him turning himself into an ink demon.  
> Cat: hahaha, It’s the same story, but crack. Lots and lots of good ole’ fashion crack.  
> S: Also, this is a collab so this is going to have double the memes.  
> C: and probably some murder and a lot of poison and memes  
> S: and don’t forget the memes.  
> C: and a surprising number of panic attacks and a not surprising amount of screaming, vines, and tide pods. And memes.  
> S: So many memes… Also, this is my first fanfiction that has been written down so that's fun. Also, one more warning; every chapter of this work will have at least one dark scene ex. murder, and in this fic, dead Boris.

~Henry POV~

I, Henry Stein, was prepared for this. Once I got that letter, I had spent a week buying all the materials and armor I needed, planning what was going to happen, what I was going to say, and now I was finally ready. The cold wind blew as I gazed up at the rotting mess that was Joey Drew Studios. It was actually breaking at the seams, and it looked like it had collapsed a while ago. Why did he want to meet here? My heart thrummed in my ribcage, but that might’ve been because of the 5-hour energy and 3 Starbucks coffees I chugged before driving over. I took a shaky breath and began to walk to the door, taking a few things out of the bag I brought with me. I let go of the breath I was holding and stepped onto the stairs leading to the door.

“Alright Joey, I’m here. Let’s see if I can find what you wanted me to see,” I was ready to go inside.

 

~Bendy POV~

Let’s just say that being an ink demon is harder than it looks. While it’s great when you want to be left alone, it sucks when you want a bit of company. I guess there’s a downside to every perk. And I was lonely. Everyone with a sentient mind hated me, and monsters that know less than an infant aren’t exactly the best at conversation. Usually, I was in a bad enough mood that I just killed them in the end. The entire studio was filled with hatred and misery, and the people who weren’t in too much pain to register what was happening treated the whole scenario like it was the apocalypse. And it sucked. For who knows how long, I’d spent every day walking through the broken remains of my dream, shattered all around me and smothered with ink and regrets. And, in the end, there was only one person I could think of that might be able to change all of this; my old pal, Henry Stein.

So, I wrote him a letter, inviting him back to the studio so that he could find out what I did. And let me tell you, that was the biggest mistake of my life; even worse than me turning myself into an ink demon. He’s been standing outside the door for about 20 minutes now, telling the life story of some unnamed individual. It’s not even a realistic life story either. Currently, this unnamed man is battling thots alongside his pet doge. I don’t even know what a thot is! Another 10 minutes pass by, and Henry finally gets to the end of the story. I still don’t know this dudes name.

“And his name...”

Oh finally, he going to tell me his na-

“Is JOHN CENA!!!” He screams as he kicks open the door, playing two recorders at once with his nose as some kind of neon spinning toys spin on the ends of each recorder. They must have been glued on because those things didn’t budge. He was wearing these weird, green plastic sandals with covered toes and multiple holes on it, black sunglasses with smaller versions of the spinning toys glued on them, and a pastel pink bag with what looked to have a big cat on the side.

I could feel the smile slip off my face in replacement for a look of disgust and terror. I didn’t even think I could ever remove that cheesy grin that seemed to be permanently plastered on my face. You learn something new every day I suppose. I mentally sighed. I wonder what he’s gonna do next.

 

~Henry POV~

After closing the door, I looked around, immediately frowning.

“Wow, ok. I pay homage to John Cena by spending half an hour telling his totally accurate life story, and no one is around to listen to it!” I took in the scenery a little more. The inside of the studio looked better than the outside. While it was better than the outside it still looked shabby. Large holes in the walls were covered by poor excuses of boards, cobwebs covered the corners of the hallways and other rooms, peeling posters lined the hallway, and don’t even get me started on the smell. Not only was it musty, but the studio also smelled like rotting flesh, old ink, and Joey’s sweaty socks. I tried opening the door to air out the fuckin place, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Stupid Joey and his low budget door,” I muttered as I tugged on the door, trying to get it open. After a couple minutes of me having at the door, it became apparent that this door wasn’t going to open any time soon. Dammit. The worst part was that I left my hoverboard in the car. I was really looking forward to getting Joey to attempt to ride that thing; even with his wonky leg.

“Welp, guess I’ll die. Where the heck is Joey?” My fluorescent green crocs squeaked against the floor as I looked around. It felt like I was the only color in this place. Not only that, I looked out of place in the cartoonish style that the studio now took hold of. 

“Huh, Joey must have gotten the entire studio refurbished to look like a cartoon. That’s pretty lit. Not my fav aesthetic, but it works here,” A text box appeared out of thin air in the bottom left corner of my field of vision, scaring the crap out of me.

“Jesus Joey! You had to add spoops to pop up as I walked by! Well this is what I say about them. YEET!” I threw a John Cena fidget spinner (Cena spinner) at it, but it phased through the text box. “. . . Ok then. Moving on.”

I walked around for a bit, bumping into stuff every now and then since wearing sunglasses indoors really isn’t a good idea (I didn’t take them off and I don’t plan on it anytime soon). I found a room with a balcony that overlooked a large hole that seemed to never end. Another text box appeared, making me jump again.

“Stop doing that!” I yelled swatting at it. I had no effect on the box yet again. I sighed and followed what the magical built-in tutorial told me to do. I watched the ink machine slowly rise in all of its “glory”. Nah, I didn’t watch it rise from the pit, I pulled out my phone and started playing Flappy Bird because of how slow it was going. I almost ended up dropping my phone down the pit, but thanks to my John Cena popsocket (because what other kind of popsocket would it be am I right?) I didn’t.

“Man, that thing is compensating for something, isn’t it Joey?” I said out loud. So maybe I was bitter, I had to do more than punch Joey in the face and leave five minutes after I got here. So what? I walked down a newly opened corridor, trying every single door as I go. I’m almost to a split in the hallway when a board falls down from the ceiling. I am unfazed.

“Really? If that was supposed to be a jumpscare that is a very sad excuse of one. The text boxes are more frightening than you are,” I threw a Cena Spinner at it. Continuing on, I made my way to a room with six pedestals, each with a silhouetted picture above it. I walk over to the on lever and flip it. I flip it again. Nope. Nothing. I spin around and sigh.

“Looks like I’ll be doing a fetch quest,” I hear my stomach growl. “But first, a snack,” I pulled out a stale crescent roll that I found in my couch from last week and began munching on it. Exiting the room, I turn the corner and almost run into a Bendy cutout that wasn’t there before. Or at least, I don’t think it was there before. Whether it was there before or not it still startled me.

“Stop! You almost made me drop my croissant!” I exclaim to no one in particular. The Bendy cutout didn’t say anything in response. “Wait a minute, weren’t you a board that fell from the ceiling before? Holy shit you were. It has evolved. Hold on a sec” I reached into my Hello Kitty Meme BagTM and pulled out an otamatone. Then I beat the shit out of it until it’s smile was permanently upside-down. 

“Hah, that’s what you get for spooping me! Now, let’s find some stuff.”

 

~Bendy POV~

I banged my head against the wall where I was sitting. What have I done? What the fuck even happened in thirty years that made . . . that???? He isn’t supposed to destroy my cutouts yet! How did he even destroy it with that- that stick? He isn’t supposed to be doing half the things he is! What even is a thot?? I’m so confused?!? WHAT THE HELL??????? 

 

~Henry’s POV~

I hear a loud thump from somewhere in the studio. Deciding to be the stereotypical horror character that I am, I decided to investigate. Stepping on the remains of the Bendy cutout, I continued down the corridor, arriving in a room that seemed to be the source of the noise. When I arrived, I gasped and immediately teared up. Not just because the mangled, rotting corpse of one of the goodest boys of the world was right in front of me, strapped to a plank of wood and dripping ink, but because it smelled like a mangled, rotting corpse, dripping with ink. I fell down, right in the doorframe, and I started hyperventilating. I ended up going in and out of a panic attack. Every time I tried to calm down the sight and smell would bring me back to square one. It was almost an hour before I was able to successfully break the chain. I stood up on shaky legs.

“A-aw, man. F-first Har-rambe, then-then this guy?? When w-will it end?” I laughed a little, mainly trying not to cry again. I was about to leave when I saw it; the wrench. It was protruding out of Boris’ open chest, taunting me at a distance.

“Aw crap. I need that,” My eyes lingered on the object a little longer before I turned around and left the room. “I’m sure that there’s more than that one wrench in this studio. Y-yeah, after all, there were multiple maintenance workers in the studio back when I used to work here. I’ll just find another one.”

There weren’t more than that one wrench in this studio. Not on this floor, at least.

“That’s fine, that’s fine! I’ll just make that my last task,” I began looking for an inkwell instead. Luckily, I did not find it inside the corpse of anyone else. It was under someone’s work desk. I did end up finding my old work desk.

“Ah, my old desk. I spent so many hours drawing butts here. Good times,” I picked up the inkwell, stoppered it, and shoved it in my pocket before continuing.

Once I found it, I took a brief rest to read Joey’s book. All that was inside was a bunch of gibberish. I drew a rainbow on the “How to Properly Summon a Demon” chapter. Then I yote it across the room. The satanic power of the rainbow caused it to disappear before it hit the ground. Intrigued, I pulled out the gear and did another yeet. Same thing. I threw the inkwell directly below me. It shattered, but disappeared before I could try to clean it up.

“Whoops,” I quickly ran to the God room to see if the rainbow demon brought them to their respective places. But not before listening to Wally’s tape recorder.

“I mean, you did get outta here one way or another, huh?” I muttered under my breath. I missed the guy and hoped he’s been doing good. I feel like he would be the kind of guy who got into vines like me. We would probably talk about them all day. Oh well, no point thinking about what could be. Right now, I had to concentrate on finding the rest of the items. After all, I still had to find like what, 2- 3 items? Yeah, 3 things: A wrench, a plush, and a third item. I know where the wrench is, obviously, but I wasn’t certain about the other two.

When I looked around again (pointedly ignoring the bad wolf room), I easily found the other two items. I found the plush on a chair with a projector and an ink pressure valve. I sat down on one of the chairs and chugged a can of bacon soup; since a stale crescent roll isn't really filling. I’m totally not eating it to stall for time. Once I finished, I kept the plush with me as I looked for the record. As I wandered the halls, making an attempt to open every door on the way, I got closer to a room with a light underneath the door. As soon as I got close, the light turned off and I quickly threw the door open. It was a small music room that was closer to the size of a supply closet than an office. I found the record under the desk but no person of interest was to be seen. Also in that room, there was a small, old-fashioned radio. I decided to play it (again, totally not to stall the inevitable grabbing of the wrench out of my buddy o boyo Boris that's for sure) and ended up listening to the same instrumental music for 20 minutes straight. I gotta admit, that song was a bop. I continued to listen to it until it broke. I sighed.

“Welp, it looks like I don’t have any other distractions now do I.”

I personally kept the plush in my hand. It was something soft and nice to snuggle when I had to inevitably grab that wrench. Speaking of the devil there it is, just chilling in my goodest boy’s chest like it belongs there (which it didn’t btw). Squeezing the plush so hard it squeaked, I shut my eyes and snatched the wrench out of my good boy, throwing it in a random direction while only slightly tearing up. I didn’t hear it clatter, so I assumed it disappeared satanically and just bolted out of the room.

I got back to the satanic ritual room and found out that not only did the items find their way to their respective pedestals, they were also floating above them. Floating. I don’t know why I’m so surprised by this. I should be used to stuff like this by now. Like that one time I accidentally ate a weed brownie my old roommate made. I saw tons of things fly then. He liked to lace it with LSD. But still, I’m sober this time. Besides a lil vape every now and then, at least. I’m actually the cleanest I’ve been in a while- not the point! The point is that things don’t usually float. Especially that gear. That gear was heavy. I tossed the Bendy doll behind me and watched as it suddenly appeared in its proper place; floating of course.

“I call bullshit. You aren’t even visible, but yet you have better arm game than me? You cheatin’ bro!” I called out to the air. It didn’t respond, although I half expected it too. I let out a sigh and went to flip the power switch. Again, nothing happened.

“Come on! I did your fetch quest! What else do I need to do?” My answer came in the form of a text box; it told me to turn on the ink pressure. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” My words were laced with heavy sarcasm as I walked to the room where I found the Bendy doll. Finding some bacon soup on the way, I was almost to the room when, with a random violin squeak, one of those cardboard pieces of crap popped out from around the corner. I nearly choked on my soup as I threw the rest at it. I didn’t get to hit it though, it ducked back around the corner. Eh, the soup tasted pretty bad anyway. I started on a second can, making sure to beat up the cutout as I made my way to the switch. And just as I thought that the jump scares were done, the projector flickered to life and began playing an animation of Bendy dancing along with an eerie whistling.

When I turned that gosh darned valve, the pipes above my head swelled and burst. And I mean directly above my head. I felt like I’ve just been slimed at the Nickelodeon Hotel, RIP Nick Hotel 2018, except it was significantly less pleasant. Not only that, but it probably ruined my shirt. I spluttered, wiping the ink away from my mouth and running out of the downpour. I was covered head to toe, and I was lucky my sunglasses covered my eyes, or else I would be completely blinded instead of partly so. It was cold and slimy and I didn’t like it. My croc slipped on the liquid as I scrambled away, and I fell face-first into the ink.

The entire studio heard what I had to say about that.

 

~Elsewhere in the Studio~

By the entire studio knew what Henry had to say about being covered in ink, I mean the ENTIRE studio got to hear Henry’s stream of curses directed towards the ink and to Joey, who was still nowhere to be found according to Henry. Allison was fighting off a group of searchers when the sudden scream startled her; this allowed the searchers to overtake her. Tom, who also heard the yelling, met Allison and helped free her from the searchers grasps. The Projectionist looked up at the ceiling and felt one of the first human emotions he felt in years; fear and general nervousness. Alice put a pause to her torment on a Striker to try to find out what sort of creature was making those awful noises. Boris winced at the angry-sounding man as he teared up a bit. Sammy prayed to his lord that he wouldn’t have to face the angry man. Finally, we’re back to Bendy, who was covering his nonexistent ears. As he got ready for his debut, he knew he did not want Henry to find out who he really was. If he did, then oh boy what he was hearing now would be nothing compared to what Henry had to say to him later. 

 

~Henry’s POV~

I groaned, tugging at the edge of my shirt. It was completely ruined, the “Keep Calm because Memes Come True” logo completely lost to the stain. I had that shirt custom-made for when I punched Joey since he believed in dreams coming true way too much. I’ve already seen it on the walls twice so far and I haven’t even been here that long. I sighed and let go of the shirt, shivering a little as the ink clung to my body. Wait.

“Did I pack a spare?” I looked inside my somehow still-intact hello kitty bag; nothing but a blanket, and I wasn’t gonna ruin something that soft. Who knew how long I was gonna be here? I sure didn’t. Had I known that I would have gotten covered in ink I would have packed an entire outfit or two. Hopefully, I won’t be here for much longer because I was cold. As I passed by the broken Bendy cutout I had an idea. I picked up as many pieces as I could and placed them on top of the other remains of the first Bendy cutout. I grabbed a few more from around the studio and leaned them against each other in a pyramid shape. I proceed to light the thing on fire, T-posing for the maximum amount of warmth. Apparently, the studio thought it was in danger of me setting it on fire. Although me setting the studio on fire would be doing everyone a huge favor, it still put an inky end to my bonfire. Making my last trip to the object room, I pulled the lever to power up the ink machine and began making my way to it. That’s when I saw it; inky footprints that led back to the break room.

“JOEY!” I yelled banging on the door. I could hear what sounded like someone falling down the stairs. Oh wait, it wouldn’t be Joey because he’s in a wheelchair, isn’t he? Right, I forgot about that.

“Whoops,” I went to see the ink machine when I discovered that the thing’s been boarded off.

“What in the world?” I got closer for a better look, but got a rather unwanted surprise.

 

~Bendy POV~

He finally turned on the ink machine. FINALLY! Now we can continue on as planned, but I decided to change one thing. While swiping at him, I grabbed his sunglasses. Now I could finally see- wait. Are you kidding me?!? He had sunglasses, under his sunglasses. Well, that explains why he ran into a couple of walls when he first arrived here. 

 

~Henry’s POV~

Oh hell no.

Of all the things that thing could have grabbed, he grabbed my favorite pair of sunglasses. This, combined with the fact that he is a freaking ink demon, made me a very upsetti spaghetti.

“Of course there’s an ink demon!” He seemed startled by my sudden outburst. I continued, “First the cutouts, then Boris, then the ink, even more ink, so much freaking ink that ruined my shirt, and now there’s a freaking ink demon. AN INK DEMON! What the heck was Joey doing in the past 30 years that caused all of this!?!” I gestured wildly around me. The ink demon shrugged. I sighed, grabbed the demon’s bow, and punched that hecker in the face. My sunglasses almost comically flew through the air, and I grabbed them before they could land. My eyes thanked me once I slid them back on. Ah, yes. Almost complete darkness. I’m pretty sure my retinas would burn if I took off all of my sunglasses.

I pointedly ignored the crumpled thing -welp now it’s an ink puddle- on the other side of the boards, and pointedly looked around me. That was when I noticed how the ink was slowly rising, how literally everything was crumbling around me, bursting and breaking.

“Goddamnit,” I muttered as I started walking casually to the exit. Sure I didn’t get to punch Joey, but I did punch his satanic spawn, and honestly, that was good enough for me. The exit is in my sights as I walked down the hallway. I spun around and start walking backward, ya know, to give the studio a proper farewell.

“Welp, it’s been fun while it lasted. I really will miss this place from the bottom of my heart. Hah just kidding it sucked and I couldn’t be happier with leaving. So now, as Wally Franks would say, I’m outta he-” I am unable to finish that thought. The floor beneath me gives way and I begin to plummet into the inky blackness.

“How could this happen to meeeee. I’ve made my mista-” I hit the floor with a thud and hardly have time to attempt another breath before the ink from the upper floor begins pooling down on me, pushing me into a wall. I try to get up, but the ink keeps pushing me down. I can’t breathe. I try to find something to grab onto, anything to help me stand up so that I don’t drown. I grabbed onto something; it’s a valve. While trying to get myself up I end up turning the valve. It doesn’t help me stand up whatsoever and I can feel my lungs are burning up in my chest. I can tell that it’s over for me. I take a breath- its air. I open my eyes and look around. Apparently, the valve did something along the lines of draining the room. Either that or there’s another hole somewhere

“Huh, that’s oddly convenient. Okay then, moving on,” I open the door to find that the next stairwell has been flooded with the ink. 

“Seriously. Is this going to happen with every stairwell I come across?” It didn’t happen at every stairwell; it happened at every other stairwell. I was wading in ink up to my waist at least three times, each time was just as uncomfortable as the last. After what seemed like ages I made my way to a cleaner looking room. The words, “THE CREATOR LIED TO US” was written in ink on the wall to my left. Next to it, there was a workbench with an axe resting on it.

“Oh yeah,” I said lifting it up and swinging it around, “Now we’re talkin’. This will definitely come in handy,” The boards blocking the doorway were no match for me and my axe. We plowed through all of them like an unstoppable team. After chopping down the boards on the next doorway, I was ready for whatever else was thrown my way. Except, I wasn’t. As soon as I opened the door I heard a loud crash behind me. The entire studio began to shake around me and I began to feel slightly light-headed. I backtracked to find out what made that noise to discover that the hallway I had just finished passing through had collapsed.

“Welp, it looks like I won’t be going back that way any time soon. Oh well, it’s not like I planned on going back that way anyway,” I continued to walk into the room. Every step I took sent a wave of nausea throughout my entire body. I could feel my legs and eyelids grow heavy as I stepped into a ritual circle. Images began to flash through my mind as my body grew limp. The ink machine was being lowered down back into the abyss it came from. Joey’s empty wheelchair was resting in a just as empty room. A small pile of ink-splattered sunglasses in a corner. The ink demon was reaching forward with his gloved hand. I dropped my axe, uttering a few words before everything went black.

“Aw fuck, I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

**Author's Note:**

> *drops mike* There we go. We hope you enjoyed chapter 1 of this nightmare of a story. Chapter 2 is in the process of being made as I write this end note. We have a ton of ideas for the upcoming chapters that will, for the most part, stick to the original script. We will for sure include way more memes in the upcoming chapters. I'm not going to say much about chapter two, but I will say this; poor Sammy. THAT'S IT! THAT'S ALL YOU'LL GET OUTTA ME. So now, as Wally would say, I'm outta here (for now)!


End file.
